


Crash Into Me

by ladylaufeyson1



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 20:03:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13107546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladylaufeyson1/pseuds/ladylaufeyson1
Summary: Sif is queen of Asgard. Loki is king of Jotunheim.What could possibly go wrong?





	Crash Into Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scarletsherlock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletsherlock/gifts).



> Hello scarletsherlock! First of all, I am so sorry that this fic is SO DAMN LONG. I had an idea, ran with it, and literally could not manage to shorten it or stop typing. I hope that doesn't put you off. I really enjoyed your prompts, and I hope you enjoy this story! Merry Mistletoe!

  _My only love sprung from my only hate!_  
_Too early seen unknown, and known too late!_  
_Prodigious birth of love it is to me_  
_That I must love a loathèd enemy._

-  _Romeo and Juliet_

* * *

 

"Tensions between Asgard and Jotunheim continue to grow," Sif said as she stormed into the throne room, knocking back a pint of mead. "If a treaty is not reached soon, I'm afraid war is inevitable."

"What exactly will it take to calm those frost-heathens?" Fandral asked.

"The casket," Sif replied, staring solemnly out at the night sky. 

"That's proposterous!" Volstagg boomed. "We took it so they wouldn't turn the nine realms into a frozen wasteland!"

"Yes, but they want it back. Their king has made that much clear."

"You aren't seriously entertaining the idea, are you?" Fandral said, turning to look at his queen. "With all do respect, your majesty, peace will not be achieved if the ice casket is returned to Jotunheim."

"I know that," she answered, feeling thoroughly exhausted. "But they will come for it."

"So let them come," Volstagg boomed. "We will be ready!"

"I do not wish for war."

"I've heard rumors about King Loki," Hogun spoke quietly. "He was once Asgardian."

Sif turned and shot a quizzical look at her cohort. This information was new to her.

"Lied to about his parentage, his true origin," Hogun continued, staring into the fireplace. "Taken by a soldier during Laufey's war and brought back here. Once he discovered he was Jotun, he went back. He became their king."

"Wouldn't someone be able to tell if there was a frost giant casually roaming the streets of Asgard?" Fandral inquired, looking around incredulously at the tale.

"His adoptive mother knew magic," Hogun said. "Perhaps she was able to disguise him."

"Do his parents still live? Who are they? Why was this information not brought to me sooner?" Sif asked, her face full of concern.

"The news was only delivered today, your majesty," Hogun replied.

"By whom?"

"A soldier. His name is Thor."

"And how exactly would this Thor know?"

"He is his adoptive brother. Or was."

Sif's brain felt like it would explode. 

"I am assigning you three to this task. See what more you can find out for me."

The three men nodded and exchanged glances.

Sif sank down onto one of the lounge chairs and buried her face in her hands. "There are times I wish I could go back to being a shield-maiden."

"My queen," Volstagg said, happily discovering a plate of untouched food on a nearby table. "With all do respect. Perhaps - and forgive my saying so - you would do well to marry?"

"You DARE suggest such a thing," Hogun snarled, narrowing his eyes at his fellow warrior.

"My friend, the thought is absurd," she replied softly, shaking her head as she took another large swig of her libation. "I do not need a man to rule beside me."

"Of course not," Volstagg continued. "But perhaps someone to share the burden with? Someone of good counsel."

"This burden is mine alone to bear, I'm afraid."

"In any case, why don't we have a feast?" Volstagg managed to say as he scarfed down a large leg of boar. "One where you could, at the very least, weigh your options? I'm sure we could all do with a bit of fun, what with all of the heavy politics as of late."

"I see no harm in a feast," Fandral smiled, raising his glass in merriment at the notion. "If only to satiate the appetite of our rotund friend. I do fear he might starve."

Volstagg sneered, dropping a piece of food from his mouth onto the floor. Hogun crossed his arms and sighed loudly, thoroughly disappointed in his tactless cohorts.

"A feast," Sif repeated, seriously considering the request of her friends. She didn't believe she would find someone she'd wish to wed in a single evening, but the prospect of finding someone to share her bed piqued her interest. "And who will come to this feast?"

"Every lord in the kingdom?" Fandral replied.

"I'm acquainted with every lord," she cringed, clearly dissatisfied with the thought of any one of them laying with her. "No. Every eligible man in the kingdom may attend."

"Every man, your majesty?" Hogun inquired.

"I must protest," Fandral piped in. "We cannot ensure your safety if we allow in any old riff-raff."

"I am willing to take that risk."

"We will see to every preparation then," Volstagg smiled, clasping his hands together excitedly.

Sif smirked, but her smile quickly faded as her thoughts turned back to Jotunheim. Their king previously resided on Asgard? A Jotun? A chill swept over her as she looked out at the night sky towards the Bifrost.

Something was coming. She could feel it in her bones.

* * *

 

 "The queen continues to deny us the casket," Helblindi, the tallest frost giant spoke. His voice was low and gravelly. "She will not comply."

"She is no fool," Loki replied, moving his fingers against his lips in thought. "She knows well would happen if she did. What other news have you, Grundroth?"

"There are rumors," the messenger spoke slowly, bowing his head at Loki's acknowledgement. "There will be a grand feast in a fortnight. It is said that the queen seeks a king."

"We mustn't disappoint her then," Loki said, his icy scowl fading into a smirk.

He scoffed at the thought of Asgard's queen marrying as he had heard many stories of the hideous shield-maiden-turned-queen. If Loki were able to feel anything, he was certain it would be pity for any man who was forced to marry her. Still, this was going to be easier than he had anticipated. Retrieving the casket would be the easy part. What he had planned after, however, a bit trickier. 

"I will leave at once."

"How do you plan to slip past the gatekeeper?" Helblindi spoke.

"There are paths between these worlds that even he is blind to."

"And then?"

"I will return the casket to Jotunheim on the eve of the ball, when the realm is distracted," he replied, getting up from his throne to pace, his hands tied behind his back. "And when I return to Asgard... "

"Yes?" Helblindi asked, eager to hear what his fearsome king had planned.

Loki turned to his subjects, his red eyes burning. His ambitions were much greater than simply retrieving the ice casket.

"I will end her." 

* * *

 

Once Loki safely made his way through a portal into Asgard, he looked around cautiously, making certain he was alone. He was close to the realm's busiest center which was bustling with citizens and vendors. Yuletime was approaching and familiar scents and sounds filled the night air. The nostalgia of it all made his stomach turn.

Lost within his own mind, Loki nearly missed the road that would take him directly to where he wished to go; the north mountains. There, safely shrouded in isolation and quiet, he would set up camp and plot out his grand scheme.

He walked until the city behind him became smaller, twinkling in the distance like fireflies in the dark. Once he reached a suitable clearing surrounded heavily by pines, he conjured his necessities; a modest burlap tent and a small fire for cooking. He didn't need sustenance as often as other Asgardians, as he was not one of them, but the journey had indeed made him hungry so he set off for the creek he knew was nearby.

Growing up, Loki loved these woods in particular. He always felt different than his idiot brother, whose interests mostly involved punching things (mainly him), so he would often escape to them for solace. He would read and practice his magic for hours on end, thoroughly enjoying the cold and the isolation. It was a place that held nothing but good memories. For Loki, no other such place existed.

Once he reached the creek and speared several salmon, Loki stripped down to his briefs and waded into the cold water, figuring he would use the opportunity to bathe. He kept glancing over at the shore, sensing the presence of another, but managed to relax when he realized that no one was there. He wasn't breaking any laws, he knew, so he didn't fear being arrested. Travelers were allowed to freely roam anywhere they pleased in Asgard, unless that had changed since he left. He wouldn't put it past their queen to implement such a ridiculous law.

When he finished, Loki worked his fingers through his tangled wet locks and walked slowly back onto land. He turned, about to tend to his fish, but suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. His skin prickled.

"Bit cold for a swim, isn't it?" a voice came from behind him.

Loki swiftly conjured his daggers and turned, pressing them against the throat of the shadowy, hooded figure.

"Can I help you, _friend_?" he spat, fully anticipating his next move to be a lethal one.

Sif pushed back her hood and in two swift moves had Loki kneeling on the ground in front of her, the blade of her glaive pushed firmly against his bare throat.

"Just passing through," she replied casually, as if nothing had happened.

With his life hanging in the balance, Loki looked up to find the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen standing over him in the blue glow of the moonlight. Her long, pulled-back hair was raven dark, a stark contrast to her flawless porcelain skin. Her light eyes, the same color as the asgardian sea during a summer storm, glittered down at him with mocking delight. He found himself paralyzed by much more than her weapon.

Sif nearly dropped her sword at the sight of the man beneath her, for he was unnervingly handsome. His intense blue eyes burned up into hers through his dark, wet locks, his fear and anger palpable. He swallowed hard against her glaive, his glistening neck moving slowly against it. Something in her stirred at the sight of his bare flesh against the metal of her sword.

"I did not wish to disturb you," Sif smirked as she dropped her blade, sheathing the weapon beneath her cloak. "But I see that I have."

"Forgive me," he spat as he stood, trying to gather whatever dignity he could muster in her blinding presence. He turned away to hide his daggers properly in his pile of clothes, not at all wishing to reveal his magic to her. "I don't react kindly to strangers sneaking up on me."

"Those daggers," Sif inquired curiously, ignoring him. "You seemed to conjure them out of thin air."

"Yes, well, one can never be too prepared it seems," he replied, tapping the pockets of his briefs to imply that he normally kept his knives close. She was certainly a pest.

"You are a traveler?"

"Yes."

"What is your name?"

"Tyr," he mumbled irritably, loading the salmon into his knapsack. If she had only known who she was truly speaking with. "And you are?"

"Astrid," Sif replied with the first name that came to mind, relieved that the man did not seem to have the slightest idea as to who she was. It was not uncommon for this to happen, as Asgard was vast and travelers from other realms, namely Alfheim and Vanaheim, were permitted to come and go freely in these mountains. Many were unfamiliar with her likeness.

Loki continued packing his things, trying to rid himself of the strange sensation he felt whenever he was brave enough to look at her.

"I apologize. I was trying to keep a fair distance."

"I would hardly consider two paces behind me a fair distance," he scoffed, suddenly recalling how he'd sensed a presence while swimming. Had she been watching him for a long while? The thought was not at all an unpleasant one, he admitted freely to himself. "You should be more careful. There are dangers lurking in these woods."

"Like you?" Sif chuckled. "I know these woods well, good sir. You needn't tell me of them."

"Then I wish you good fortune," Loki said as he slung his knapsack over his shoulder, smiling pretentiously at her ignorance of him. "I must be on my way."

"Very well," she shrugged, pulling her hood back over her head. "Good evening."

As the two parted in opposite directions, Sif looked back at the man stalking off into the night. A strange part of her felt sorry to see him go.

As soon as she turned away, Loki glanced back. 

* * *

 

Loki sat by the fire, watching the flames in a trance. Just as he was about to retire for the evening, he heard someone yelling, not far off from where he was. He promptly stood and ran as fast as he could in the direction of the voice, knowing well who it belonged to. When he reached the cliffs he looked down and crossed his arms, half-mortified, half-amused by what he saw.

"I do believe you have a knack for trouble, Lady Astrid."

"Hello, Tyr," Sif grinned up at him as she dangled off the side of the cliff, her hands slowly slipping. "I am glad to see you again."

Loki rolled his eyes heavily. "You know these woods well, _do you?_   Tell me, did you _mean_ to walk in the direction of the cliffs and then off of them, or are you simply being ironic?"

Sif's smile turned into a scowl as she gripped harder onto the cold stone. "I don't - need - your help."

"I believe you do," Loki snapped, crouching down to reach for her hands, pulling her up effortlessly to safety. He expected her to properly gain her footing, but instead she stumbled into him, knocking them both to the ground.

It took Loki a moment to realize that Sif was on top of him, her lips just inches from his, and for the briefest of moments, he allowed himself the fantasy of her. That was, until, the pungent aroma of grain alcohol filled the air between them.

"Are you _drunk_?" Loki asked, incredulously. 

"Perhaps a little," Sif laughed as she hiccuped, reaching for down for her flask, brushing against his leg. "Would you care for some?"

" _No_ ," Loki snapped as he pushed her off to stand and distance himself. "What I would like is to return to my camp - in peace."

"Indeed."

"Why are you all wet?" Loki yelled as he soon as he felt the dampness that saturated his cloak. 

"I fell in the creek."

"You fell. In the creek," Loki repeated, thoroughly annoyed by her antics. It had only been a couple of hours since their initial meeting. What other trouble had this woman managed to get herself into?

"May I - use your fire?" Sif replied, shivering, her eyes glazed over. 

Loki sighed, but eventually resigned himself to the idea. He would not leave her in the state she was in. For some alarming reason, he couldn't. 

* * *

 

It took several hours for Sif's intoxication to wear off. Loki knew it happened once she ceased her babbling and suddenly became much more reserved. The transformation was a welcome one for he didn't have time for this charade any longer.

"Thank you," Sif said, gratefully accepting a mug of warm milk from him. "I feel like a fool."

"Yes, well. You can thank me by not getting yourself into any more ridiculous situations."

"I will make no such promises," Sif protested, smiling across the fire at him.

Loki looked up from his mug to stare at her for the first time since her sword was pressed against throat. Her hair was taken down, the wet ends draped across her chest. She was even more beautiful now than before, if it were possible. Loki had long forgotten what it was like to be in the company of a woman or in the company of anyone other than the insufferable ice monsters he surrounded himself with. He didn't realize how truly lonely he was until now, as he was staring at her.

"Do you come up here often?" he asked, forcing his eyes from hers. 

Sif smiled. "Yes. Most nights."

No one, not even the warriors three, knew that she wandered these woods alone at night. She knew she put herself in peril each time she did, each time she slipped past the einherjar, but she missed the freedom. 

"You come up here to do what exactly? Wander off cliffs?"

"To do nothing," she replied, laughing. "Which is a welcome change from the day."

"I understand," he mumbled. And he did.

The two sat in silence for a long time, listening to sounds of the forest and the babbling of the creek nearby. There was no sense of awkwardness, no need for forced conversation, much to Loki's relief. He wondered silently what exactly it was she did during the day that was so taxing, but knew it wasn't his place to ask. 

"I've always loved these mountains," Sif said, looking up at the night sky. "I've been coming here since I was a girl."

"Oh?"

"My father was cruel," she continued, unsure of why she was telling any of this to a complete stranger. "The forest was my escape."

Loki said nothing, intrigued by her words.

"There was a boy my age who would come here as well. He loved the silence of the woods and the cold as much as I. He used to make it snow."

"He made it _snow?_ " Loki answered, cocking a brow at her. 

"He knew magic," Sif grinned, her voice filled with wonder. "And he knew I loved the soft, white flakes. He was just so kind to me. It hasn't snowed here in many years. Not since those days."

"What happened to him?"

"I do not know. One day, he simply stopped coming. I never even knew his name, nor did he know mine," Sif said, picking absentmindedly at the fur on her boots. 

"I see."

"Where are you from?"

"Originally Vanaheim," Loki replied, suddenly lost in thought. "These days I seem to live all over."

"I envy your lifestyle. I would love to see each one of the nine realms."

"Even Jotunheim?" Loki asked before he could stop himself. "You do not fear it?"

"There are rumors of war. I fear that," she said candidly. "But Jotunheim itself does not frighten me. I believe it has its beauty, just as the other realms do."

Jotunheim, beautiful? Loki wanted to laugh at the notion. He did love the cold and the isolation of it, but _beautiful?_ She spoke of war. A war that _he_ would be responsible for. A war that she would certainly be on the losing side of. The thought made his stomach turn. What was happening to him?

"You are under-dressed," Sif said, nodding at his light garments. 

"Ah, I am quite used to the cold."

"In any case," she said, getting up from her seat, smiling as she handed him a thick fur blanket from her knapsack. "Keep this. For your trouble."

Loki opened his mouth to protest, but stopped once he saw her beaming down at him. He swallowed at her proximity and nodded as he took the fur, smirking at the cloth that was still wet from the creek. He wondered if she would still be so kind if she knew the truth - that he was there to assassinate her queen and take over the nine realms. He felt he already knew that answer.

Sif wished that she was capable of reading thoughts, for she would've given anything at that moment to know his. He was an enigma, a man of mystery and unquestionable strength, but she did not fear him. If anything, she felt safe in his company. She wondered what he would think if he only knew her true identity, for she did not enjoy deceiving him. 

"The hour is late," she whispered, breaking the silence between them. "I should go."

"Yes," he said as he stood, undeniably affected by her closeness. She _should_ go. She should go far away from him.

Sif nodded and broke away from his intense gaze to gather her belongings. Before she left she stopped and looked back.

"Tyr?" 

"Yes?" Loki glanced up, hopefully. _Stay_ _,_ he thought, against his better judgment. 

"Will you be here for a while longer? In Asgard?"

"Yes. A short while longer."

Her face lit up at his words. "I'm glad to hear it. Goodnight."

"Farewell, Lady Astrid." 

Loki clutched the blanket tightly as he watched her walk off into the night. 

* * *

 

Loki woke the next morning with a clearer head. The night before felt like a dream in the sobering daylight; _she_ felt like a dream. He wondered if she would come back. Part of him hoped she wouldn't. A much bigger part of him hoped she would.

He spent most of the day training to keep his skills sharp and his mind occupied. By nightfall, he was exhausted. Once he finished his supper he retired next to the fire, hoping to fine tune the details of his plan, but his thoughts, once again, turned to her. 

Just as he was about to doze off, a rustling came from the woods behind him. Loki watched with much anticipation, greatly disappointed when a rabbit jumped out into the clearing. As soon as he was about to turn his gaze from the animal, an arrow flew through the air and struck it dead.

"I brought dinner," Sif smiled as she strut out of the woods wearing a long, white fur cloak, her hair pulled half-back and slightly curled. She was breathtaking. 

"I - already ate," he replied as he sat up, his heart racing at the sight of her approaching him. 

"I have not," she sighed, picking up the animal and the spit from the fire. "May I?"

"Please."

Loki watched as she pulled a knife from her boot and cleaned the animal, impressed by her ability to do so. But what in the nine realms was a woman who donned clothing worthy of nobility doing roaming the woods at night, hunting for food?

"That's a beautiful garment you have on," Loki commented, unable to help himself.

"Thank you, it was a gift," she said, smiling. "It reminds me of the snow." 

"You really miss it, don't you?"

"More than I can say. It is strange, I know."

"Is that why you come up here?"

"There are many reasons, but yes. Each time I hope that I will see it."

Loki watched as she roasted the rabbit evenly with great precision, looking up at him every once in a while at him. He wondered silently how someone so kind and beautiful could also appear so sad at times. He didn't know why she was. He didn't have the right to know. Nevertheless, it angered him beyond reason.

"May I see your daggers?" Sif asked once she had finished up her meal. 

Loki nodded and went inside his tent to conjure them in private. He'd never let anyone else near his daggers; a true testament to the effect she had on him.

"These are beautiful," she mused as he handed them to her.

 _You are beautiful,_ he thought, as he watched her trace the details with her fingertips. How he envied those daggers.

"I see you are still not dressed for the weather," she said, looking up at him.

"Ah, it gets to be quite warm by the fire," he replied, snapping himself out of his reverie as he went to sit on the log beside her. 

"There is to be a ball in a fortnight," Sif said after several minutes, curious as to what Loki's reaction to it would be. "Rumors have it that our queen is looking for a king."

"Seems strange that the queen is incapable of ruling the nine realms on her own."

Sif's jaw dropped, but in a way, she admired his candor. Is what her own people thought of the news? That she was incapable of ruling?

"Perhaps she is lonely."

"Perhaps," Loki replied. He too was lonely, but as king, there were far more important matters. Still, he didn't wish to argue with her.

"Have you - someone back on Vanaheim?" Sif asked candidly, hoping the answer would be a no.

"Ah, no," he smiled, surprisingly not minding the question at all. "I hail from a very isolated part of the realm. There aren't many options."

"I see."

"Do you - uh -"

"Oh, no," she laughed, pushing her hair behind her ears nervously. "Not many men approach me."

"Forgive my saying so," Loki said as he snapped branches and threw them into the fire. "But is the whole of Asgard blind or just plain idiotic?"

Sif blushed at his sentiments. "I am afraid my duties get in the way of any hope for romance."

"Are you a shield-maiden?" he asked suddenly as he looked down beside her.

"I was," Sif replied, a bit surprised by his inquiry. "How did you know?"

"By your glaive and the crest upon it," he said, pointing to the hilt of her weapon. "There was also the fact that you were able to take  _me_ down without much effort. Impressive."

"Yes," she laughed. "Oh, I do miss it. The rush of it all. The thrill of battle."

"Well then, I have a proposition for you," Loki asked, turning slightly more towards her. "I am desperate need of bettering my combat skills. It has been far too long since I've had someone to spar with. If you are interested, perhaps you could come here each night and-" 

"Are you serious?" Sif asked, her eyes wide, her grin contagious. She was so elated by the ingenious idea that she launched herself into his arms, knocking them both clear off the log. 

"Ugh, I am sorry," she groaned, rubbing her head after she bumped it against his, thoroughly embarrassed by her actions. 

"It was worth it," he said, his smile fading at the realization of her close proximity. "If it pleases you."

Sif looked down at the beautiful man beneath her. He had made her so inexplicably happy in the short amount of time they had known each other, that, before she could find the sense to stop herself, she put her hand upon his chest and slowly lowered her lips to his.  

Loki fell still. He found himself unable to touch her back, unable to move at all, for the feel of her mouth upon his, her body against his, was simply _too_ good. It had been a long time since he had had any sort of physical contact with another, and he was greatly unsure of what to do. All he knew was that he did not want it to stop.

Not until she began to break away from him did Loki react, and something raw unleashed inside of him. As she leaned back, he sat up to meet her, placing his hand gently upon her cheek, caressing her lips with his fingers. He leaned in and kissed her much more fervently, much more expertly, his tongue playing with hers. Sif moaned and moved herself against his lap. That was his undoing.

In one swift move, Loki flipped her gently so that she was on the ground beneath him. Sif quickly began removing her clothes, tugging on his so that he might get the hint to help her out and do the same. Loki would have panicked had he not wanted her so urgently. 

He stopped once she was fully unclothed, certain he had never seen anything as wonderful in all his time alive. She was perfection.

"You are _beautiful_ ," he whispered, pushing her hair away behind her shoulders so that he might see her breasts. He began trailing his lips from her neck to her collarbone, then down from her breasts to her thighs.

Sif pulled him up to her again and ran her fingers gingerly down his bare sides. He was lean, but muscular, his arms and torso both firm and well-defined. She bit her lip as her hand traveled further down and brushed delicately against his hardness. She broke away to claw at his back, pulling him closer, loving the feel of his large member pressed firmly against her entrance.

"Are you cold?" he asked, his heart pounding as he felt her wetness slick against him. He was horribly nervous now and on the verge of panic. "We can move ins-"

"Now," Sif begged, nodding up to him in a daze. " _Please._ "

Loki returned the nod and reached for her hand, groaning as pushed himself deep inside of her in one slow, gentle move. Never before had it felt like  _this_ , her walls taut around him, her wetness running down his length as he slid in and out her. She felt like a dream. 

Sif cried as he entered her, not at all prepared for the depths he would reach. She pushed herself up on her elbows and immediately pulled him to her lips, rocking herself urgently against him. 

Loki slid his hand down to touch her while they moved together, his eyes burning into hers, his breathing ragged.

" _Tyr_ ," she breathed as she laid back down, closing her eyes, arching her back so that her breasts would meet his lips. 

Oh, how he longed to hear her say his name. His _true_  name. But if being Tyr meant this woman would be his, there was no one he'd rather be.

Loki knew that he would be unable to last much longer. If she opened her eyes once more and glanced up at him in the way she had been, he was certain it would all be over for him very, _very_ soon.

"I am close, I'm afraid" she breathed, reaching up to grab hold of his long, dark locks.

"It's alright, darling," he whispered, holding her closely against him. "I am not far behind."

As Loki pushed harder, deeper into her, he could feel her tightening around him. Sif tried to postpone her release, but the sight of this man taking her was simply too much. No man had ever looked at her like this. No man had ever made her feel like this. She grabbed him by the throat and gasped loudly as she came, her expression almost pained as her mouth dropped open, suppressing a loud moan that eventually made its way out into the night. Loki felt her walls pulse around him, felt her nails dig into his skin, watched her writhe below him in ecstasy. He cried out, his release coming hard and fast.

After, the two laid in silence for what seemed like hours. Sif eventually moved, trailing her fingers across Loki's chest.

"I should go," she said quietly, regretfully.

"I wish you wouldn't," Loki breathed, half-asleep.

"Mmm, but just think," she said as she rolled on top of him, yawning. "The sooner the day begins, the sooner nightfall arrives."

"And I thought I was the clever one."

Sif grinned at him as she stood, putting her clothes back on and gathering her belongings. 

"I thank you for your company, Lady Astrid," he said, bringing her hand to his lips. 

"Goodnight, Tyr."

* * *

 

 In the days following up until the time of the ball, Loki and Sif spent every available moment in each other's company. When evening came they sparred, prepared dinner together and made love into the early hours of the morning. Sif had never been happier in all her days. Neither had Loki.

He nearly forgot all about his plan, all about his ambitions, as none of it seemed important. But deep down he knew that he had to move forward with it, for her sake alone. He wanted to give her everything, everything he ever could and more. By following through with his plan, he was going to do just that. He wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his days making her happy.

And, for the first time in his life, he was tired of lying.  

* * *

 

 The night of the ball finally arrived. Sif was up in her chambers with the warriors three, hesitantly getting ready for the occasion while guests began to pour into the castle from every corner of the kingdom.

"I cannot - do this," Sif spoke, wincing as a handmaiden tightened her corset.

"You will do just fine," Fandral smirked, waiting impatiently behind the curtain for her to appear. "Just take a deep breath and-"

"No. I mean, I _cannot_ do this. There is... someone..."

Volstagg's eyebrows shot up. Hogun looked like he wanted to leave the room.

"You _met_ someone?" Fandral scoffed.

"I did," she spoke quietly, making sure the maid had left the room before she continued. "His name is Tyr."

"Where did you meet him? How?" Hogun replied with intrigue.

"In the mountains. It was like a dream, really."

" _Is she intoxicated?_ " Volstagg whispered to his friends.

"The mountains," Hogun repeated, suddenly cross. "Have you been going there again?"

"I'm sorry, my friends," Sif grimaced, fearing the lecture she would get. "I'm afraid I have."

"Well, perhaps we can invite him to join in on the festivities?" Volstagg inquired, popping a chocolate into his mouth.

"He - had a previous engagement," she said. If they had known she had been lying to him about her identity, she would never hear the end of it. But she had been planning on telling him, and soon.

"Well, if he cannot be here for you then it is for the best. Forget him," Fandral sighed, disappointed that she continued to risk her life in secret. "Come out now, let us see you!"

Sif sighed, looking herself over in the mirror. She could not forget that man, nor did she want to. It had only been less than a day since she had seen him last but she already missed his fiery temperament, his smart mouth, his lips upon hers, the sound of his daggers against her sword, the look in his eyes when they...

"Your majesty?" Volstagg asked, wondering what in the nine realms was holding her up.

The mouths of the three men dropped as Sif slowly walked around the curtain. She wore a long, midnight-blue gown with a low-cut bodice that was lined with small silver moons and stars. Her hair was down and curled just slightly at the ends. Her thin, silver tiara with stars that matched her dress sat delicately atop her head. Her beauty was ethereal.

"Do I look alright?" she asked, feeling ridiculous. She would much rather be in her armor than any old gown, no matter how beautiful.

"My _dear_ ," Fandral beamed, nodding enthusiastically. "You look _magnificent_."

"Stunning!" Volstagg clapped excitedly.

"A gown fit for a queen," Hogun said with a smile, proud of the woman standing before him. " _Our_ queen"

Sif smiled, but that smile faded fast as her thoughts turned back to Tyr. This was going to be one _long_ evening.

"What is it?" Fandral asked, noticing the rapid change in her demeanor.

"Nothing," she said, grinning at her cohorts. If she had one reason to enjoy the evening, it was because of the three men standing before her, the three men who had always been there.

"Ready?" Volstagg beamed, offering his arm.

Sif nodded and wrapped her arm around his, holding on tightly. 

* * *

 

 While Sif managed to enjoy the delicious feast prepared in her honor, she found herself quickly growing bored of the countless men who tried much too hard to gain her affection. Many danced and drank in merriment around her in the large hall, but Sif could not bring herself to do either.

Just as she began to doze off during a particularly less-than-enthralling conversation having something to do with bilgesnipe, Sif spotted a tall, familiar hooded figure enter the bustling room. He walked oddly around the perimeter towards the entrance to the main courtyard and gardens, looking over his shoulder frequently, though he did not see her. Sif gasped.

"What is it?"

"It's _him_ ," she grinned. She wanted nothing more at that moment than to run across the room and throw herself into his arms, to kiss him in front of the realm and announce to every person that she had made her choice. That the ball had been pointless, for there was only one man she saw. Only one man she would ever see.

Fandral craned his neck, following Sif's eyes with a quizzical look. "Who?"

"Her elusive mountain man, I reckon," Volstagg murmured.

Hogun suspiciously eyed the tall man creeping around in the shadows of the dimly lit hall. Something about the man didn't sit right with him. 

As soon as her friends found themselves occupied with other guests, Sif slipped out of the hall and ran into the night to find him. She was grateful that he had picked a much more isolated part of the castle, for she wanted nothing more than to be alone with him.  _Completely_ alone. For there was much that needed to be said.

Once she rounded a corner and spotted him, Sif moved silently across the courtyard, following the long, black, billowing cloak that she knew belonged to her lover. Just before Sif reached for him, Loki turned and conjured his daggers, holding them firmly against her throat.

" _Astrid_ ," he whispered, his eyes wide with fear. The daggers quickly disappeared and he rubbed his fingers gingerly against her throat, checking for any sign of damage.

Sif simply looked on in awe at the knives that had vanished before her eyes. 

"Now _that_ is a trick you _must_ teach me."

"Foolish girl," Loki scowled, too pre-occupied to care that she had just watched him do magic. He could have badly injured her. "Did you not learn your lesson the last time you tried to sneak up on me?"

"Mmm," she said as she inched her face towards his, wrapping her arms around his waist. "As I recall, that ended with you on the ground, kneeling before me."

"Just as it should be," Loki smirked, tilting her chin up to bring her lips before his. "You look  _breathtaking_."

Sif smiled as she leaned in to kiss him, pulling him somewhat roughly into her. Loki's hands moved down her sides, handling her with the same sense of urgency. 

"What are you doing here? Have you come to vie for the queen's affections?"

"Of course not. I am just passing through," Loki stopped, his face somewhat dark, his eyes heavy with fatigue. "Has the queen found her happily ever yet?" 

"Not just yet, I'm afraid. But there is every reason to hope."

"I see."

"Curious... you don't seem very surprised to see me here."

"I should have figured the palace was your place of employment," he smiled, running his hands down the front of her dress. "What with your opulent wardrobe and all."

"Yes," she sighed, looking up at the palace walls with disdain. "My place of employment."

 _Soon, my love. You will never having_ _to answer to anyone here again..._  Clearly she did not enjoy her duties at the palace, whatever they were, and Loki would be more than happy to relieve her of them as soon as he was able. 

"There is something I need to tell you," Sif whispered. It was time. He deserved to know the truth. 

"Yes, my darling?" he asked as he pushed her hair back behind her ear, stroking her cheek gently with his thumb.

"YOUR MAJESTY!" Fandral shouted at Sif, suddenly rushing into the courtyard with Hogun and Volstagg by his side, his sword drawn. A large army of einherjar followed.

"What is the meaning of this?" Sif asked, her voice stern. This was not a time she wished to be disturbed and certainly _not_ how she envisioned her identity being revealed to him.

 _Your majesty_ , Loki mouthed to himself. _It cannot be..._ he thought. _No.._.

"The casket is gone. And this man is not who he says he is," Hogun warned as he brandished his mace, releasing its spikes.

"Come away, Lady Sif," Volstagg whispered, axe in hand, beckoning to her as he glared at Loki. "Come away now."

 _Lady Sif -_ _Q_ _ueen of Asgard,_ Loki thought, his fears confirmed. Oh, what a grand fool he had been.

"When you showed him to me in the great hall, another did the same shortly after," Hogun continued, ready to strike at any moment. "Our informant, the one we spoke of. Thor."

"Your majesty," the burly, blonde soldier nodded as he stepped forward. "This _heathen_ that stands before you is my adoptive brother. And I believe he means to cause you great harm."

 _The casket was gone..._ Sif thought.  _Tyr was his brother? But that would mean..._

"I'm afraid you have all made a terrible mistake," Sif laughed, unable to fully process what was transpiring around her. "Tell them, Tyr."

Loki's his heart sank as he looked at her, she who had so much faith in him. Minutes ago he had been unknowingly plotting the death of the woman he loved more than anything in the nine realms; a woman he loved far more than any ambitions he ever had. And here she was, believing him over the words of her most trusted advisers and the einherjar who were sworn to protect her life. _Beautiful, strong, faithful Sif..._

"Tyr, tell them," she pleaded. "You do not know this man, do you?"

Loki opened his mouth to say something, anything, to placate her. He could convince a group of ice heathens to follow him blindly to their inevitable peril. He could deceive many, talk his way out of most things with his clever tongue. But he could no longer lie to her. 

There was very little that frightened Loki, but he found himself suddenly terrified, for he knew that he was about to lose her.

"Your majesty," he said as he dropped slowly to his knees, his tone formal and unfeeling. "I am Loki, King of Jotunheim."

"No," Sif whispered, hesitantly backing away as she shook her head. " _No."_

"Protector of the ice realm," he continued, unable to look at her. "And a damn fool."

Tears formed in her eyes and poured down her cheeks. This was _madness_. She had fallen in love with Loki, king of the frost giants, the greatest known threat to the nine realms? Was this his plan all along? To make her believe that he loved her, when it was all a ruse? To tear her apart from the inside out? 

"Guards," she said angrily, wiping her face quickly with the back of her hand. Her feelings did not matter now, only the security of the realm did. "Seize him."

Loki slowly stood and put his hands up, making it known that he would not harm her and that he would go willingly, die willingly, if it pleased her.

"I am sorry," she whispered, unaware of what exactly she was apologizing for. For loving him? For deceiving him as well? In the moment, there was so much to be sorry for.

"I am not," Loki said as he dared a glance at her, forcing back his own tears as several guards placed his hands into shackles. He wasn't sorry, for any of their time spent together. It didn't matter that she was who she was, for he loved her just the same.

And he would gladly die to prove that to her.  

* * *

 

"Are you _proud_ of yourself?" Fandral asked as he made his way through the dungeons, stopping in front of Loki's glass cell.

"I meant her no harm, I assure you," Loki whispered, though in all actuality, that was a lie. He _had_ meant to harm the queen, even though he didn't know it was her. And he hated himself for it.

 "No?" Hogun asked. "Then where is the casket."

"On Jotunheim."

"And who took it there?" barked Volstagg

"I did," Loki snapped, growing impatient with their little interrogation. 

"Then why did you come back here, hmm?" Fandral inquired, glaring up at the prisoner. "Unfinished business to attend to?"

"Leave us," a voice from behind them called. Sif stepped out from the shadows and waved the men away, her eyes locked on Loki's. She looked regal, severe. _Much like a queen,_ Loki thought to himself. 

Loki stood and walked over to the glass, prepared to give her the answers he knew she sought. He did not dare look away from her now. 

"In the mountains," she asked, her voice low. "Did you know who I was?"

"No," he said, shaking his head sadly. This was his greatest fear. "Nothing aside from my name and my background was inauthentic. My feelings for you were and are very, _very_ real."

"Then why did you lie?"

"We are both liars, it seems," he said before he could stop himself. He knew the circumstances were vastly different, but it made him bitter all the same.

"Yes, but I never planned to kill you," she said, narrowing her eyes up at him.

"I could never hurt you."

"But you have. So much so."

Loki opened his mouth to retort, but nothing came out. She was right. And it was sobering. 

"How was it that you were able to get back to Jotunheim so quickly?" she continued, trying to process all of the information she was being given. "How did Heimdall not see you?"

"There are portals," Loki said, happy to tell her. "I can slip rather easily between realms and disguise myself... with magic."

Sif knew there was something different about him that she had not placed until now. So much suddenly made sense.

"Tell me _exactly_ what your plan was," she demanded. "No more lies."

"To return the casket to Jotunheim."

"What more than that?" 

"To become ruler of the nine realms."

"How?"

Loki looked down, too ashamed to look her in the eye when he said it. "By assassinating the queen."

Sif crossed her arms, hoping that if she crossed them tightly enough she could relieve the pain that seared through her chest. "And what is your plan now?"

"To die," Loki said, dropping to his knees before her. "To feel your blade pierce my chest, at long last. And I will be glad for it."

"Why wasn't I enough?" Sif asked after a moment, staring him down through the glass. "You could've ceased your plan, at any time. Why didn't you?"

"I wanted you to have everything. Every damn thing you ever wanted but could never have."

"Yes, but don't you see? All I wanted was _you._ You could've chosen love over greatness, but you didn't. You could've had me, had us, had everything. But you _lied_."

"I did. And I cannot change that."

"And I - cannot kill you," she said, her voice cracking as tears began to form. 

"Release me then and I will bring the casket back to you. If you wish to spare my life then let me serve you. If I cannot have you, if I cannot have the chance to prove myself once more to you, then I am as good as dead."

"You must think me a fool."

"No," Loki said, shaking his head. "I think you many things. A fool is not one of them."

"I was foolish enough to allow this ridiculous ball and foolish enough to trust _you_. The realms should not suffer for it. I will retrieve it myself."

" _No_ ," Loki said sternly, beginning to panic. "There is an enchantment protecting the relic. Only I can touch it, only I can undo it. If you handle it, even for a moment, you will die. You _must_ believe me."

"Forgive me if I do not," she whispered, turning to walk away from him. 

At that moment, Sif felt a gentle hand reach out and take hold of her arm to stop her. She turned and gasped to find Loki outside of his cell standing freely next to her, his shackles removed.

"You mean to tell me that you could've done that this ENTIRE time?"

"I'm afraid so," he said, smirking at her outrage.

Sif was livid, but the realization put her at an odd sense of ease. If Loki was going to harm her, he would've certainly done it by now. Still, she was wary of him. 

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to open a portal and return to Jotunheim. I am going to bring the casket back to Asgard, by way of the Bifrost. Meet me there within the hour."

"And why should I believe you?" 

Loki sighed. "Because when you were young, you wore a blue stone around your neck with the eolh rune carved into it. Your favorite outfit was a red and black frock and you  _hated_  summer and the heat it brought with it. _"_   Loki said, smiling at the memory of her still fresh in his mind. "Because there was a boy in the mountains who swore an oath to protect you. And he is making up for lost times." 

As soon as the warriors three caught sight of Loki marching freely down the dungeon corridor, they charged. But Loki wasted no time conjuring a portal and stepping through, closing it as quickly as he had opened it.

Sif dropped to the floor and cried.

* * *

 

Loki casually walked off of Heimdall's observatory and onto the Bifrost, a little worse for wear. His subjects did not take kindly to their king confiscating their precious casket once more, but he managed to take it from them all the same.

He could see the queen waiting on the bridge in the distance, a vast army of einherjar flanking her, waiting to strike him down if necessary. He smirked. Facing them would be the very least of his worries today.

Sif ordered the guards and warriors three to stay behind as she walked down the Bifrost to meet Loki. She watched with bated breath as the man she loved, dressed head to toe in a black, green and gold leather getup, sauntered towards her, his expression stern. He looked very much like a king.

As he came closer to her, she noticed a large gash on the side of his head and instinctively reached out to touch it. She stopped and stayed her hand instead.

"Ah," Loki said, noticing her distress at his wound. "The Jotuns were rather displeased that I had to return their gift, I'm afraid. I think we can both agree that it's nothing I don't deserve."

"Perhaps," she said quietly, unaware of how to react towards the man in front of her. She couldn't believe he was the same boy she had known in mountains as a girl, but the longer she looked at him, the more she knew it to be true.

Loki looked down at her with pure adoration and dropped to his knees. "Your majesty... I have something for you. But be warned. When the casket is released, I will transform temporarily. Do not be alarmed."  

"I do not fear you," Sif whispered calmly. And she did not. Not anymore.  

In one swift move, Loki conjured the ice casket and placed it down next to her, backing away quickly. Sif gasped at the sight before her, but she was not at all afraid. He was beautiful. She was entranced.

Loki quickly transformed back and gauged her reaction, relieved that she did not look at all frightened. The two stared each other down for what seemed like an eternity before Loki spoke.

"I know you will never forgive me," he said quietly, his voice wavering, his eyes wet. "And you have every right not to. But you must know that the time we've spent together is something that I will take with me wherever I go, be it in this life or the next, if you choose to take mine now. You are everything good about the nine realms, everything beautiful and kind and pure about them. I was a fool, with ambitions too grand for my own good, and I failed to see the greatness that was already before me. I love you, Sif. And I will never stop loving you."

Sif watched as he turned away from her and began to walk.

" _Loki...,"_ she whispered. 

And there it was. His name upon her perfect lips. 

Before he turned completely, Sif ran after him, knocking them both over onto the Bifrost. 

"You really have  _got_ to stop doing that," he smirked, cradling her face in his hands as he brushed the tears from her eyes.

"Oh, be quiet," she smiled, crashing her lips into his.

Snow began to fall quietly around them.


End file.
